The Hague is used to empty threats. Dictators have been denouncing the International Criminal Court since its first day. But this week felt different. Chad and Venezuela didn't just talk about leaving the ICC — they started packing. And the court's oversight body isn't having it.
On Friday, the Assembly of States Parties issued a blunt warning: walk out, and you're not just quitting a treaty — you're turning your back on millions of victims. The statement didn't name names, but it didn't need to. Everyone knows who's on the chopping block.
This isn't happening in a vacuum. The United States has been hammering the tribunal for years, and now it's turning up the heat. Washington has slapped sanctions on ICC prosecutors, threatened allies who cooperate, and used every diplomatic lever to kneecap the court. The message is clear: if you're not with us, you're against us.
The Great Escape
Chad and Venezuela aren't the first to threaten withdrawal. Burundi did it in 2017. The Philippines followed in 2019. But here's the thing — it didn't work. The ICC is still standing. The court's jurisdiction doesn't vanish because a disgruntled leader throws a tantrum. Crimes committed while a state is a member still fall under the court's purview. And for those already before the court, the exits are locked.
The Assembly's statement was a shot across the bow. It reminded Chad and Venezuela that the Rome Statute isn't a membership card you can toss in the trash when things get inconvenient. It's a commitment to justice. And it's one that comes with real obligations.
Let's be honest about what's driving this. Chad's President Mahamat Idriss Déby has been under pressure for years. Human rights groups have documented mass arrests, torture, and extrajudicial killings. The ICC has been sniffing around. And Venezuela? Nicolás Maduro's regime has been accused of crimes against humanity — from political persecution to systematic torture. The court's investigations have been grinding forward, and now they're getting too close for comfort.
“Walking away from the ICC is not a victory lap for national sovereignty. It's a confession.”
The US Wants to Bury the Court
But here's the twist: the US isn't cheering for justice. It's cheering for the exits. The Trump administration — and now Biden's, let's be real — has treated the ICC like a rogue actor, not a judicial body. They've threatened sanctions on court officials, revoked visas, and pushed allies to sign bilateral immunity agreements. The message is simple: the court only exists to judge others, not us.
This campaign has worked. The ICC has been forced to tread carefully when it comes to American soldiers and intelligence officers. But the court's mandate goes beyond the US. It's about the DRC, Uganda, Sudan, Georgia — places where the powerful don't want to be held accountable.
When Chad and Venezuela cite “sovereignty concerns,” they're echoing the US talking points. But let's call it what it is: a coordinated assault on the idea that there's a law above nations. The US doesn't want a global court because it fears the precedent. It wants a world where might makes right, and the strong do what they can while the weak suffer what they must.
What's Really at Stake
If Chad and Venezuela successfully withdraw, it could rip a hole in the ICC's fabric. Other states might follow. But the Assembly's warning is a reminder that the Rome Statute was built to survive defections. The court has already issued over 50 arrest warrants. It has convicted 10 individuals. It has brought hope to victims who've been told their pain doesn't matter.
The bigger danger isn't the exits — it's the message. If the world's most powerful nation can bully the ICC into irrelevance, then the promise of “never again” is just a fairy tale. The Holocaust, Rwanda, Srebrenica — these weren't just failures of leadership. They were failures of justice. The ICC was supposed to be the answer.
Critics say the court is biased — that it only targets Africans and weak states. There's some truth to that. The permanent members of the Security Council are conspicuously absent. The US, Russia, and China have never joined. Israel isn't a member. But the solution isn't to tear it down. It's to make it work better.
And that's what makes this moment so dangerous. The ICC is underfunded, understaffed, and constantly attacked. Yet it's the only institution that can hold war criminals to account. If Chad and Venezuela succeed, if they get away with this, the court will look even more powerless than it already does.
A Line in the Sand
The Assembly's statement is a line in the sand. It's telling Chad and Venezuela that they can't have it both ways. You can't sign up for justice when it suits you and run away when it doesn't. The Rome Statute has a clause for withdrawal, but it also ensures that the court's jurisdiction survives for crimes committed during membership. That's not a loophole — it's a trapdoor.
Chad's human rights record is a nightmare. Journalists are jailed. Protesters are shot. The ICC has been investigating alleged crimes since 2020. Venezuela is even worse. The regime's own security forces have been accused of “massive” human rights violations. The UN has documented extrajudicial executions and systematic torture. These are exactly the kind of cases the ICC was built for.
Walking away from the ICC is not a victory lap for national sovereignty. It's a confession. A confession that you're afraid of what the truth might reveal. A confession that you'd rather bury the past than face it.
The World Is Watching
The next few months will tell us a lot. Will Chad and Venezuela actually follow through on their threats? Or will they blink when they see the international backlash? The Assembly's warning is a shot across the bow, but the real test is whether the court's backers will back it up with action.
Europe has been quiet, too quiet. The EU has been tepid in its support, more focused on trade deals than on defending the ICC. If they don't step up, the court will be left to fend for itself — again.
I've covered this court for years. I've seen its failures and its fights. But I've also seen the faces of victims who finally got a hearing. That's not nothing. That's everything.
So here's the question that keeps me up at night: if the ICC caves, if it lets Chad and Venezuela walk without a fight, what's left? A world where justice is just a word, and the powerful write their own rules. I hope I'm wrong. I hope the court grows a spine. But I've been wrong before.
